An Exquisite of 92
by Baroness Emma
Summary: Here ye, here ye! A new challenge fic for all! Write an SP drabble exactly 92 words long, and you must use the letters P. E. R. C. and Y. All other rules are the same as for the 55 Fiction Challenge. See first chapter for further clarification.
1. My Best

**A/N** - For all those of you who enjoyed "55 Fiction Challenge" here is a sequel! (of sorts. . ;)

The new rules are -

The drabble length is to be exactly 92 words long, so word count and spellcheck before submitting please! Just FYI - my word processor counts dashed words as two words (or three, depending on how many dashes) so take this into account.

All drabbles must include at least one instance of the letters P. E. R. C. and Y. It does not matter where these letters are in a word, but they must be there. For instance, the word "pickle" would count for both the "P" and the "C" requirement, and the phrase "Lord Tony pouted on his way to Calais." would fulfill the whole requirement.

You may use Percy's name in your fics, but if you do, each appearance counts for only ONE of the letter requirements. For instance, if you wished Percy's name to count for the "C" - "Percy, try this pie." would fulfill the requirements. However, if you wish Percy's name to count for the "Y" the sentence would have to be something like - "Percy, come see this horse."

In any case, each instance of the name "Percy" will count for only one of the required letters.

Any letters used in the title words WILL count towards this rule. Letters used in an Author's Note will NOT.

You may decide for yourself what the drabble is about, and pick your own storyarc, timeline and genre. AU's and Crossovers are fine. However, no poetry, if you would.

Keep the rating under "M". Only "K" though "T" submissions will be posted. No slash.

And don't forget - Have fun! Be creative!

Come join the coterie of an Exquisite of 92! We welcome all comers!

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**An Exquisite of 92

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**

To start us off, here is my first contribution. It was inspired by watching an insane amount of SP music vids in youtube. Two of my favorites being Ericthefrootbat's "Here they come" and "Sharp Dressed Man" (-_o) Here are links - http:/www. youtube. com/watch?v=8GpgdDIt36E ; http:/www. youtube. com/watch?v=ZoDC7ufRUh0

**A/N** - Percy may act the fool, but sometimes he lets the Alpha Male show through just the slightest bit. . . ;) Set right after TSP.

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**My Best**

Marguerite _never_ shuffled. She _walked_. Upright, proud. Regal.

But she was shuffling now.

She stepped from the gangplank. Ah, what a lady.

But his shoes! Ridiculously large upon such tiny feet.

As poor old Jelly's expression swung from frightened to joyous, he greeted, half-explained and paid the man for his troubles.

_It was all a wager! La! no matter at all - here is gold._

Now Margot was shuffling – beside him. He nearly burst with pride.

Her feet were in his best shoes. _His._

_My best._

She smiled at him.

_My only._


	2. Trophies

A lovely bit from Belfast Docks, to kick off the new challenge! Welcome to the coterie!

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**A/N** - Takes place immediately after "The Elusive Pimpernel" - **Belfast Docks**

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**Trophies**

Surreptitiously, she followed him to London, refusing to rest at Richmond as he'd asked her. She found him in the library at his townhouse, surrounded by several members of his League, in deep discussion.

There was the general gasp of shock when she entered the room, followed by a sudden tirade of furious exclamations, demanding the reasoning for her horrible bruises.

In response, she faced her stunned husband and boldly announced that she wished to be inducted.

She had now earned her trophies. She had won the right to join his League.


	3. Acting

A Scarlet Pimpernel fan comes out of the woodwork to present you with this little gem. Give a big round of applause to Quill Nostalgia!

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**A/N** - An introspective scene from the 1982 film, outside Marguerite's bedroom after Prinny's garden party. Dialogue comes from screenplay - **Quill Nostalgia

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**Acting**

"The man I fell in love with still exists somewhere. I shall never stop loving him. Never."

For an instant dreams punctured the gilded reality he'd carefully crafted, slackening his hardened jaw and propelling him a step closer to her. Perhaps it was already peeling away. She saw his twists and twirls of lace and quizzing glasses for the theatrics they truly were. It would be so easy to take another step, put his parted lips on hers, and stop acting.

If only he could be certain _she_ wasn't.

"Good night, m'dear."


	4. Character Shields

A _very_ AU and humorous musicalverse fic from Pimpernel Princess. Huzzah! The coterie is growing!

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**Character Shields**

"This is most uncomfortable, Percy," Hastings whined. "We look so foppish!"

"Good," Percy laughed. "This shall throw the French even more off our trail. . . And Marguerite took the trouble of making them, so we must wear them."

_*Pop!*_

"Tony, not again!"

"Stop blaming me - it was Hastings!"

"Shut up! It was Percy!"

_*Pop pop!*_

"Sink me, I just put my quizzing glass _through_ your shoulder, Andrew."

"Elton is popping my cravat!"

The League was facing the greatest temptation known to man - trying not to pop their character shields. . . made of bubble wrap.


	5. A Gift

A sweet little interlude written by Cairistona. Enjoy!

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**A Gift**

Sir Percy patted the lovely mare as he turned away. She'd given him a good ride and displayed beautiful manners.

He regretted that she was too small to be his horse.

He liked her very much. He rarely found such an agreeable horse, or one as pretty as this one. She had a neat face with well-set ears, and bright eyes. She had fine legs and a compact body with well rounded hindquarters. She was a perfect lady.

Percy turned back, smiling, for he'd just realized something: Marguerite needed a horse.


	6. The Cannes Film Festival

And thanks to Belfast Docks for being such a good sport!

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**A/N** - Thanks to BaronessOrc for starting such a fun challenge! This particular piece takes place in an alternate timeline, circa the late 1940's - **Belfast Docks

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**The Cannes Film Festival**

Her five-inch heels made no noise against the scarlet carpet. Neither did the silver dress that clung to her curves. She'd been nominated for best actress; no doubt she would win.

Hours later, at a posh party with too much champagne, he strolled up to her and smiled rakishly. She returned it, her eyes sparkling with interest and attraction.

He lightly kissed her knuckles, gray eyes locking to cobalt. "Percy Blakeney," he murmured, lips still brushing her fingers.

Her breath hissed inward with excitement, and he knew _he_ had won, too.


	7. The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

Join me in welcoming slytherinsal to our Coterie! HUZZAH! and thank you for the drabble, slytherinsal.

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**The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea**

"_A nos deux_" Chauvelin muttered angrily, intent on the pursuit of his quarry along the dock.

Sir Percy laughed gaily, seeing his adversary behind him as he glanced over his shoulder.

The Scarlet Pimpernel stopped suddenly; turned; and as the headlong pursuit of Chauvelin brought him too close, with a quick movement he tipped the Frenchman neatly into the harbour.

"I say my dear fellah, you seem to be rather between the devil and the deep blue sea" he said merrily.

"Then go to Hell!" spluttered Chauvelin, coughing crepitantly on salt water.


	8. A Game

An intriguing bit, from Mary Anna Witt. Zounds! That rhymed! (^_^) Welcome to the Coterie, Mary Anna.

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**A Game**

An intriguing game, Marguerite thought. Her quick wit would prove her the winner, if only she could find her copy of that book. It wasn't in any of the usual places.

Her eye turned towards the closed door of Percy's study. Surely he wouldn't have taken her book? Percy? Read? But he did like games, and joining in any popular pursuit. His entry would probably be a foolish rhyme in defiance of the no poetry rule. Not that any product of Percy's brain could properly be called poetry.

Marguerite opened the door.


	9. A Well Dressed Gentleman

A humorous and mischievous little interlude from slytherinsal. Huzzah, for the Coterie of an Exquisite of 92!

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**A Well Dressed Gentleman**

Sir Percy threw the thirtieth cravat on the floor and took the thirty first from his impassive valet. He squinted into the mirror carefully adjusting the folds.

Finally, with the intricacies of the Waterfall tied to his satisfaction, tumbling in snowy folds down his chest, he called Marguerite to come from her dressing room.

"Egad m'dear, never thought that demmed cravat was going to work!" he said "Tell me, little woman, how do I look?"

"Magnificent, Percy" murmured Marguerite "But don't you think you should put on the rest of your clothes?"


	10. Height Of Fashion

And here's a new bit, to liven your day. From Cairistona. Welcome to the Coterie!

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**Height of Fashion**

"Percy! We'll be late!"

"I must have my quizzing glass!"

"Why? You have perfectly good eyes!"

Percy drew himself up in horror, "It is the height of fashion! I must have one!"

"Oh…!" Marguerite sighed and went to the carriage.

Percy came later with his quizzing glass and sat down.

*crack*

"What? Oh, I've sat on your fan… I do apologize! Are we ready?"

"But, Percy, I must have a fan!"

"Why? 'Tis not even hot!"

Marguerite drew herself up in horror, "It is the height of fashion! I must have one!"


	11. Pair Of Eyes

An interesting Indian interlude. Brought to you by Clio1792. Enjoy!

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**A Pair of Eyes, 1791  
**

Doe-brown eyes flickered demurely upward to meet his as the peddler girl, wrapped in a colorful _sari_, stretched forth a thin brown hand, offering tangy _samosas _for a few coins.

Behind her, Chennai's British Fort of Saint George sparkled, an edifice of blinding white beneath an unyielding sun.

"Should we buy some, Percy?" Sir Andrew Ffoulkes inquired.

Pity for the vendor stirred alongside appetite; they had not yet dined.

The inquiry startled Percy out of his reverie.

He had been thinking of another pair of eyes; of France, and of home.


	12. Fashionably Late

Huzzah for the Coterie, and welcome to bean21!

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**Fashionably Late**

Marguerite walked toward her husband, surveying his appearance. Then she frowned, puzzled. His hair was dripping wet.

"You're late," she said reproachfully, trying to seem angry and not succeeding.

"Fashionably," he replied, sweeping an elegant bow. He took her hand and kissed it. A cold drop of water fell from his hair and splashed against her skin.

Marguerite raised an eyebrow as her husband straightened. He laughed.

"Odd's fish, m'dear," he exclaimed, "but you really cannot blame me for this. It's no fault of mine that the Day Dream sprung a leak!"


	13. Hunting in Scotland

A new installment from slytherinsal - Enjoy!

**A/N** This is a very Brit piece of humour using the British love of the absurd, wherein those of us who consider the song and dance made around the presenting of the haggis at Burns Night quite bizarre; it is an English tradition to mock the haggis though there are also Scots who try to kid tourists that the haggis is a wee ceature wi' tartan fur forebye, a'most hunted tae exteenction ye ken. I guess it's either humour you get or you don't. I hope the gentle reader may enjoy. - **slytherinsal

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**Hunting in Scotland**

"So it is only on January twenty fifth that this elusive creature may be hunted?" asked Sir Percy.

"Ay Iph'm" replied the dour Scots bailiff "It's a wee sleekit coorin' timorous beestie; at a' ither times it willnae venture frae its burrows."

Percy surveyed the small animals, the markings like a multicoloured checkerboard readily blending in with the heather. He raised his shotgun and fired.

The creature he hit seemed to jump, then lay still.

"Egad!" said Percy "What did you say these creatures are called, my man?"

"Haggis" said the keeper.


End file.
